Second Impressions
by Rainchecker
Summary: Murtagh is captured by Eragon and Nasuada must choose between her heart and her duty. Will she be able to save him? Takes place before the battle with Oromis. Nas/Mur and some one sided Nas/Orrin. My first Multi-chaptered fic. Please review
1. The Heart of a Traitor

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns all these characters**

**Author's Note: All the words in **_italics _**are the character's inner thoughts.**

Nasuada nervously pinned her hair, pricking herself in the process. This was normally a task for Farica, but the queen of the Varden had insisted on dressing herself today. Throwing the pins down in disgust she hurriedly donned the white silk sari that Orrin had given her. He had hoped that she would wear it when she married him, but today Nasuada wore the dress for a different occasion. Despite the torches on the wall, she shivered as she descended into the dungeons of Orrin's palace, both from the chill of the grim underground passage and the forbidding atmosphere. She stopped before a thick wooden door, guarded by four urgals. Nasuada took a deep breath, fitted the key in the lock and pushed with all her strength.

The door to the prison cell opened, letting in a flood of light that momentarily blinded both the prisoner, who lay prostrate on the floor, and the queen who stood tall in the doorway. The injured man sat up with an expression of studied nonchalance. He momentarily met the eyes of Nasuada, before shielding his face with a bloody arm. After so many days in darkness the pure light streaming behind her was too much to face. Nasuada squinted in the darkness, certain that Murtagh was in here somewhere. She stepped nimbly down the ramp, stopping when she heard a cry of pain. Inside she winced, but she knew it would never do for the leader of the Varden to apologize to a traitor. She longed to offer him her hand, her help…_but no,_ _it would never do_. Nasuada hardened her heart and took several steps back.

"Greetings, wretched Murtagh, son of the wicked Morzan." Nasuada spoke with clear conviction, the venom in her voice wounding him far more than the mention of his father.

" Likewise…_beautiful, _proud Nasuada daughter of misguided Ahjihad." Murtagh's voice was hoarse and bitter. "Have the Council of Elders decided my fate?"

"You decided your own fate the day you betrayed us."

"I never meant to betray…_you_, the Varden. I had no choice in the matter."

"There's always a choice. You chose wrong." Nasuada glared at him, and then gasped. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom and for the first time she could see his injuries. "They've hurt you." Concern wrinkled her brow as she knelt on the ground before him. She gently placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Who did this to you Murtagh?"

He flinched from the touch of her hand and backed further into the darkness of the dungeon.

"Do you truly care for …_me, _my comfort?" His voice was a mix of despair and contempt. His cold rebuke snapped Nasuada back to reality.

"We're civil here in the Varden. I ordered the guards not to touch you, and Trianna, my sorceress, to heal your battle wounds. Clearly my orders were ignored."

" _I deserved it…_What does it matter? I am to be executed anyway."

"Your sentence has not yet been confirmed. The Varden would have you executed, tortured first of course, as would the elves. The dwarves would like to stone you to death; the urgals prefer to gore you. Angela had some…_disturbing, _creative ideas. Elva suggested I burn you alive. All agree you should die slowly and painfully…_except me._" Murtagh's face paled with each new option.

"Unfortunately …_thankfully_ the matter of your dragon complicates matters. With so few dragons left in the world it seems imprudent to destroy one, especially one so young and unfairly abused…_just like you…_ As you well know the connection between dragon and rider is such that they literally cannot survive without each other. There are ways to dissolve the bond but they all require consent from both parties, and Thorn has made it abundantly clear that he would rather die than be parted from you."

Murtagh peered at her cautiously, hardly daring to hope. "So Thorn is to live?"

"Not necessarily. The council may decide to execute you anyway, in which case Thorn would die as well. Either you both will live or you both will die. The matter is being debated as we speak…_I hope you live… _I hope you live."

The words slipped out before she could stop them. Murtagh dropped his defenses. His tense stance relaxed and his sneer softened into a genuine smile.

"You do?" When he spoke it was the voice of the boy Nasuada had first met; a little afraid, but maybe a little hopeful too.

Nasuada wracked her brain for a way to cover the slip. "As I said it would be imprudent, you're quite valuable… I mean to Galbatorix. We could use you as a bargaining chip…" She trailed off as Murtagh's smile grew. "Yes. Yes I do."

Murtagh crept out of the shadows he was in and took her hand in his. "Why?"

The touch of his skin on hers made Nasuada forget all of her diplomatic training.

"Even though you've broken my…_heart, _trust I suppose I still…_love you,_ care about you." Hers was not the commanding voice of a queen_. _It was the hesitant voice of a girl unsure of her future, the same soft tones that had made Murtagh fall in love the moment he met her. Nasuada stood up intending to leave. Murtagh also stood, shaky from his blood loss, and spontaneously wrapped his arms around her

"I've missed you." He mumbled into her shoulder. His blood colored the fine white cloth She longed to reply in kind. Instead she spoke the words expected of her.

"I must go." Murtagh slid to the floor groaning in pain and disappointment. Nasuada dashed up the ramp, through the castle, and back to her tent, aware that both her dress and her reputation were far less pure than before.


	2. A visit with King Orrin

Second Impressions chapter 2

Nasuada knelt before King Orrin. Much as she hated to admit it he was more powerful; the fate of the Varden depended on his cooperation. True, they were self-sustaining in terms of funds, but without Orrin's consent to live on his lands her people would soon perish. _The very course of history depends on his feelings._ Today the king was angry.

"Oh save it Nasuada! Get up!" Nasuada stood warily. "The guards have informed me you visited the prisoner yesterday. Is this true?" she nodded.

"You visited him? The **coward** who has razed farms and villages all over the empire safely from the back of his blasted dragon. You spoke with him? This **swine **who has murdered my Surdan warriors. You embraced him? The very same **traitor** who revealed your location to Galbatorix, forcing you to come here and sweep through my kingdom like a plague of locusts, surviving on my food and charity!" Orrin roared. Nasuada longed to protest, but knew it would only enrage him. Abruptly he sat down on his throne, placed his head in his hands, and continued.

"The same prisoner you had relations with in Farthen Dur?" His eyes begged her to deny it, but she could not.

"I only—we never—nothing of import—it was just—he was a gentlemen!" Nasuada's protests fell on deaf ears. He was finished shouting. His voice was calm now, almost cold

"I will ask you one question. Are you still pure? Has he taken from you the gift that should be mine?"

"I am a virgin still."

King Orrin breathed a sigh of relief. _Doesn't she understand that this is more than just a marriage of convenience for me? I love her. I've felt this way since we were children. Ours is a match that is destined to be. We are a matched set, a fitting pair I have always been kind to her. She cried in my arms for months after her father's death. Or so I thought. Perhaps she cried for a different reason. Perhaps she cried for the traitor. How can she love a man so evil, so twisted? Why doesn't she see we belong together?_ Nasuada hesitantly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Orrin? Are you alright?"

"Yes. I am fine. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I did not mean to lose control. I only wonder _do you still love him _why did you _visit him…_Wear the dress I gave you?" Orrin's face was an open book. He was more hurt than angry, more heartbroken than bloodthirsty. Nasuada had seen the same look on Eragon's face after many a visit with Arya.

"Oh Orrin," She did not love him, but he was a dear friend and she hated to see him so defeated, "I wore your dress because it's the most beautiful garment I own. I love it. I really do."

"You love it…_but not me."_ Orrin's voice was flat. "It's ruined now. It has…_that bastard _**Murtagh** all over it." He said the name like a curse

"Not ruined," she said gently kissing his brow "all will be repaired; you will never know anything was there."

Orrin looked at Nasuada. She was so beautiful when she smiled. She was smiling now, thinking of another man. "I'll know" he said quietly.


	3. Eragon's Opinion

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns everyone in Eragon, including Orrin in chapter two which I forgot to put a disclaimer for. Oops!**

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for your kind reviews. I'm glad you all like it. Expect a lot of updates for the next few days, I'm going to be snowed in for a while.**

**Characters inner thoughts are in **_italics_

After her encounter with Orrin all Nasuada wanted to do was go back to her tent and take a long nap. Eragon had different ideas.

"Nasuada! Nasuada! Stop walking! I need to talk to you!" Nasuada giggled, he looked rather foolish galloping after her, arms flapping like a mad pigeon, as he struggled to remain balanced among the maze of tents. _So much for his Elvin grace_. She slowed her pace until Eragon caught up.

"You've talked to him?" It was both a question and an accusation. When Nasuada didn't answer Eragon continued.

"What did you find out?"

"Nothing valuable, if that's what you're wondering. He was as cold, curt, and stubborn as ever. He's afraid to die, as are we all, and he misses…_me… _his dragon. In truth I told him _more then I should have_…more then I found out." Nasuada felt Eragon could tell what she was really thinking. He gazed at her skeptically.

"Uh-huh and just what did you tell him?" Nasuada did not speak, but her face gave Eragon all the answers he needed.

"Nasuada! You're practically engaged! You should focus on the Varden, not a man who_ is probably going to die soon…_you can never be with." Eragon had gone too far.

"I am NOT engaged, though I may be soon for the sake of the Varden. I've devoted my very life to the Varden! I can not think of a moment in the past ten years when I wasn't focused on the Varden. Every night I lie awake thinking of strategies and weaknesses we might exploit. Even in my dreams I am not free of responsibility! You would do well to take your own advice and focus on your own duties. You are my rider and my vassal, my confidant and my friend, but you are NOT my father!" Nasuada was taken aback by her own ferocity. Evidently so was Eragon. His expression was that of one facing an angry dragon, but being Eragon he still had to have the last word.

"This is hard for me too you know. He was **my** friend and confidant. He meant a lot to me too. I know how you feel, but we both need to let go. Murtagh isn't the same person now. He's evil, he's the enemy. We need to be ready to destroy him. And I know it's not my place to say but…_you should go with Orrin…_You should tell Orrin. He has a right to know. I know what it's like to miss Murtagh, but I also know what it's like to be strung along. It is not an enjoyable experience. One way or another you need to fix this."

Nasuada sighed. "I'm going to try. I'm going to the council now to plead his case. I understand that he needs to be punished, interrogated, and maybe even tortured. But I won't let them kill him. I can't let them kill him. This isn't his fault, at least not completely. I hope you will do the same."

"I will. For the sake of our old friendship, for our brotherhood, I will. I'll save his life for the times he saved mine. I'll fight for him with you…_Even if he does deserve to die."_


	4. Healing Hands

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns all these characters**

**Author's Note: Special Thanks to Shadowed Breath, your reviews make my day. **** I'm caught in a blizzard here with nothing else to do, so it's safe to say you can expect more chapters soon. Characters inner thoughts are in **_Italics_

The next day Nasuada visited the dungeons again, this time being sure to wear one of her more ordinary outfits, a white blouse and russet skirt with the necessary petticoats hidden beneath it. _These things are such a bother. _That was another thing Nasuada had liked about the white dress; no petticoats. It had been foolish to wear such a priceless gift, she only hoped Farica would be able to salvage it. She walked at a leisurely pace, though her feet itched to run, and paid no mind to the curious stares paid her. In her arms she carried rags, strips of clean linen, a large jug of water and various pastes and poultices borrowed from Angela. _If they won't care for him I'll do it myself._

Trianna had claimed that healing Murtagh might give him the strength to escape. The other healers had made similarly flimsy excuses, citing incompetence, unwillingness, and even fear. When Nasuada protested that he would surely die without their care all assured her that the death of the Red Rider would not be such a terrible loss. So she had gone to Angela, claiming she needed the potions for her own injuries.

She nodded to the guards at the door, human this time. No doubt Orrin would expect a full report later. Like Eragon he tolerated the Urgals, but preferred to corroborate with his own kind. She nodded in greeting. They bowed before her and opened the door. This time she had thought to bring a candle. Murtagh slouched in a corner. He looked to be asleep. Nasuada closed the door and set down her candle. It did little to illuminate the room, but the privacy the door provided when shut was more important then the light it gave when open.

"Murtagh," Nasuada hissed "Wake up." He gave no indication he had heard her. She stooped and shook his shoulder: No response. She pinched his arm, whistled, clapped, blew in his ear, and even sprinkled a bit of water on his face. Still he did not move. _It's almost as if he's…_Nasuada refused to finish the thought. _Maybe if I heal him he'll be alright. _She repeated the words like a prayer as she dragged him over to the candle.

"He'll be alright. He'll be alright. He-he has to be alright." She fell silent. _Where do I even start?_ Murtagh's hair was soaked with blood. A long cut came down from his scalp to his ear, another went straight across his neck. His eyes were swollen shut, and his lips were cracked and bleeding. His clothing was fused to his skin with dirt and blood. She placed a hand on his chest. His heartbeat was slow and his breathing was raspy.

Nasuada wetted one of the clean rags and began tenderly washing his face. _I never should have left him this way._ Tears rolled down her cheeks. If Murtagh died it would be all her fault. She bandaged his head and neck carefully, and then halted, struck by a shocking realization. _If I am to heal him… I'll have to remove his clothes. _Nasuada groaned_. How am I ever going to explain this to Orrin?_ She drew her dagger and began to cut away at the coarse fabric of his tunic. The wounds were not as bad as she expected, more bruises then cuts this time. She awkwardly massaged the poultice onto his chest. _I hope he doesn't wake up now. This would be very hard to explain._ She could tell some of his ribs were broken. _That explains the breathing at least._ She bound his chest as she had seen the healers do, hoping she had done everything right. _I don't even know if I'm helping! I could be killing him!_ The time had come to deal with his pants. Her skin hot, Nasuada cut away the last of Murtagh's clothing. His legs were cut in an identical pattern; each cut an inch away from the others, giving his lower half a striped appearance. _This is not Eragon's doing. I'll have the head of the guard who has done this! _She carefully bandaged each one. When she was finished Murtagh's legs were completely encased in white. She slipped out of her skirt and pulled it over Murtagh's legs. It would keep the bandages clean, and more importantly provide some much needed coverage. Slowly, Nasuada rolled him onto his back. She saw no new injuries, only the infamous scar. She decided to clean it anyway, just in case. The moment the rag touched his skin Murtagh flipped around and grabbed her arm. "Don't touch it! It's evil." His eyes were wild and his nails dug into her skin.

"Murtagh! I'm so glad you're awake. Sorry about your clothes--"

He cut her off, clamping his other hand over her mouth.

"Be quiet. He'll hear you."

Nasuada backed away. "Who will hear me?"

"He'll hurt you if he hears you, just like he hurt me." Murtagh's eyes darted wildly, looking for an escape.

"Murtagh…It's ok. No one's going to hurt you anymore." Nasuada knew this might be a promise she'd be unable to keep, but it seemed the right thing to say.

"He'll hurt you…_Kill her_…No! I can't! I won't! I'll try to…I **can **protect her. _Ha!_ _You can't even protect yourself. _You-you don't control me …_traitor… _No. No. That's not true.I'm a good person…_murderer…_You can't hurt me anymore! _You're mine now. _Get out of my head! _You'll always be mine…_"

Nasuada was paralyzed with shock and fear. Murtagh's eyes rolled as he grappled with the demons in his mind, thrashing, and whimpering like an injured animal. He backed himself into the same corner Nasuada had first seen him in, rocking back and forth as though caught in some terrible trance. Suddenly he froze. He looked deeply into Nasuada's wide eyes and spoke with alarming clarity.

"Don't… Ever… Trust… Me." Then his head drooped onto his chest and he was quiet once more. Nasuada crawled to him and placed her hand on his heart. It was beating far faster then in should have been, but at least his breathing was regular. She held him in her arms, her hand upon his heart until his heartbeat steadied. Sleeping peacefully now, Murtagh clutched her hand, pressing it to his chest. Orrin would find them in that same position later that day; Murtagh sleeping peacefully, his heart in Nasuada's hands, and Nasuada holding him, able to free herself, but unwilling to let go.


	5. The Wakeup call

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns all.**

**Author's Note: Character thoughts in **_italics. _**Leave a review please.**

"My lord my lord come quickly!" The soldier burst into Orrin's laboratory, causing him to drop the beaker he was holding. Grumbling, he fetched another, ignoring the soldier. People were always interrupting him in the middle of his experiments. This was probably because he spent the majority of his time in the lab.

"Lady Nasuada may be in danger!" That caught Orrin's attention.

"Where is she? What happened? Are we under attack?"

. "She's been down in the dungeon since this morning. You told us to alert you if she stayed there for too long."

"What are we waiting for? Anything could happen down there. You shouldn't have wasted time getting me!" King Orrin jogged in the direction of the dungeon. The soldier shrugged and began cleaning up the broken glass. He knew better then to argue with the king. Orrin shoved past the guards and forced the door open. He had expected to find Nasuada lying in a pool of blood, not lying in Murtagh's lap. Nasuada blinked blearily. She hastily sat up and straightened her shirt, which had slipped past her shoulder while she slept. "I can explain…"

"Don't bother." Orrin's voice was more sad than angry. "A picture's worth a thousand words." Always the gentlemen, he offered his hand to help her up. She took it.

Nasuada stood carefully. Murtagh slumbered on. He gazed at her critically. "I think I know what happened here…but why is he wearing your skirt?"

Nasuada lifted her chin, determined to regain her dignity. "I only came to heal him. I couldn't leave him…_alone down here…_ lying on a dirt floor with open wounds. I had no more bandages so I… improvised."

He was still skeptical. "You've never healed a prisoner before."

"I've never had a prisoner my healers refused to help…_Stop looking at me that way I didn't do anything wrong… petticoats cover everything and besides he wasn't even conscious…_ It was the decent thing to do."

Orrin, though still hurt, accepted this explanation.

"You could have asked me. I would've helped him… _for your sake."_ The two stood in uncomfortable silence. Orrin broke it, blushing.

"I'll go get him some clothes. And um…you too. You should both wear clothes…_especially around each other. _Actually…_I'm not leaving you here with him…_ why don't you come with me? You can pick out something nice…_and then ruin it…_ Then maybe we could get some dinner?"

"Yes. Dinner would be great." She graced him with an enchanting smile. "Oh and if it isn't too much trouble, could you make sure Mur--the prisoner gets some too? I don't think he's gotten any food since he got here."

Orrin wanted to bang his head against the wall. "Do you ever stop…_thinking of him…_being so…_infuriating… _considerate?_" _Normally Nasuada's kindness was sweet, but lately her constant concern had begun getting on Orrin's nerves. _The council is still deciding on his punishment. If I petition them for his death…but she'd hate me…but if she didn't know…it would still break her heart… I'd be her shoulder to cry on…she really loves him…she doesn't know any better … I couldn't do that to her……could I?_

King Orrin took smiled at her_. _"He'll be taken care of… I'll make sure of it."


	6. Orrin's Question

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns all these characters and one quote**

**Author's Note: I'm really getting sick of this blizzard. Character thoughts are in **_italics, _**character memories**__**in**_** bold italics. **_**As always please leave a review.**

"I'm ready" Nasuada exited King Orrin's chamber, looking beautiful in a six-layer periwinkle ball gown. In truth she preferred simpler fare, but Orrin's late mother had been well-known for her extravagant taste. He snatched the bundle of clothes meant for Murtagh and handed them off to a passing soldier.

"There's no need to trouble yourself my dear." He explained smoothly, laying a kiss on her palm. He then took her arm and guided her, a bit forcefully, to the courtyard. "I thought we might have a bit of a picnic tonight. You need some fresh air after spending all day in the dungeon."

The king's courtyard was the prized jewel of Surda. All manner of flowers bloomed beautifully there, fed by Orrin's many chemical fertilizers. Orrin led her to a white gazebo, with roses climbing up the sides. In the middle a sumptuous feast lay on a finely woven cloth. Nasuada steeled herself. _I always knew this day would come._To her surprise dinner passed innocently enough, the two talked of Varden strategies and dwarf politics. Nasuada filled him in on Orrik's election and the repair of Isidar Mithrin. Servants came and took the plates away. Orrin moved uncomfortably close to Nasuada. He stretched an arm around her. _I know that if I ask her to marry me she will accept. It is a profitable match for the Varden and Surda. It will make our people stronger and truly unite our cause…but I want her to be happy. I want her to marry me for love, not duty._

"May I ask you a question? You must promise me that you'll answer honestly. Pay no mind to politics, or strategy. Think not of the Varden or the Empire. Answer only with what your heart tells you."

"Ask your question." Her voice was soft and solemn, as it had been on the day of Ahjihad's funeral. Orrin carried on, the words spilling out quickly. He needed to finish this before he lost his nerve.

"All your life you've been pressured to make the right choices, the acceptable choices. Every decision you make is based on the opinions of others. Each move is carefully calculated, deliberated, debated. You listen first to your father, then your tutor, and finally to your own advisors. Your fate is sealed. You lost your freedom the day you were born."

A memory echoed in Nasuada's mind. **"**_**Me**_**? **_**Free? I've never been free. Since the day I was born I've been trapped, surrounded by walls of hatred and fear. "**_

" And-and you've never known love. Not really. Your father, he'd be proud of you or he'd respect you…_if he was even around_. You always felt you had to do better. You had to prove yourself. Sometimes you felt like you'd never be good enough.

"_**Right now I'm not good enough to love. I've done nothing to prove myself. I want to be a better man then my father was."**_

"You were trained to hide your own emotions, to never show weakness. You were only safe within your own mind."

**"**_**My mind is the only sanctuary that has not been stolen from me."**_

"I know this because I have lived the life you have."

**"**_**Perhaps we're not so different after all."**_

"But now-now I ask you to forget that training. Let your emotions flow freely, forget what others think."

"_**You shouldn't hide your feelings. I don't care what they think. Do you?"**_

"Please be honest with me. Do you…_ love me…_um_…_have a favorite flower?" His tongue had frozen on the words. Orrin mentally kicked himself as Nasuada dreamed of the past.

_**"Be honest with yourself. Do you love me?"**_

She whispered her response.

"Yes."

If only she had told him then.


	7. The Poison of Nightshade

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini still owns everything**

**Author's Note: Seeing as some of you are assuming that Orrin is going to attempt to kill Murtagh I decided it was time for an image makeover. Hope you enjoyed these fluffy chapters, they were fun to write. Next one is back to Murtagh :)**

Nasuada's mind was racing with regret_. If only I had told him. Everything could have been different. He wouldn't have gone into that awful cave, and been mixed up with all this magic and curses and dragons. It would have been simple and maybe we could have been happy. He would have just been plain Murtagh, not the "red rider" or "son of Morzan." He would have been safe. He could have been mine. _Her reverie was interrupted by Orrin.

"What is it?" His voice brought Nasuada back to herself. She hoped he hadn't guessed what she was thinking. _Is it that obvious?_

"What? Nothing. What's what?"

King Orrin looked at her strangely. "You flower…You said you had a favorite"

"Oh yes. I did." He was far too close to her. She stepped lightly out of the gazebo. "It's this one." She plucked a purple blossom from a nearby bush. He was beside her in an instant smacking it from her hand

"Don't touch it! It's poisonous." He killed the flower with his foot. It was Nasuada's turn to look confused. She'd handled these flowers all the time. She picked another. "It's not poisonous."

Orrin snatched it away. "It's Nightshade. It's deadly." His fist clenched, crushing the flower.

"Not always," Nasuada argued, "many plants are considered Nightshade; potatoes, tomatoes, and eggplants to name just a few."

Orrin stroked her hair. "But why take the risk? You should always avoid anything that might hurt you."

"Lots of things might hurt me," she countered, "I can't be sheltered all my life. It's worth the risk."

"You aren't sure of this. Admit it."

"Maybe," she conceded, "sometimes you have to trust your own instincts."

"Nightshade can never be trusted!" Orrin roared

"You can't judge him by his family!" Nasuada was equally passionate.

"I judge him by his own actions." Orrin spoke with finality

"He can't control his curse."

" Ha! His destiny you mean?" His voice was bitter and mocking

"He didn't choose to side with Galbatorix!"

"He doesn't try very hard to resist him."

"He's irresistible!" Nasuada flushed as she realized her mistake. "Galbatorix that is…I mean not Galbatorix himself. Just that…his powers make him irresistible. No. Wait. That's not right. That's not what I meant. I meant--" _I'm babbling like an idiot._

Orrin chuckled despite himself. "So you admit it?"

Nasuada struggled to make sense of her scrambled thoughts. "No! I don't admit anything! I… _sound deranged…_just don't think… _coherent thoughts anymore…_ that all Nightshade is poisonous."

"Nasuada," his voice was almost gentle "I'm not talking about flowers."

She was silent. _Neither am I. _He walked to a nearby fountain and sat on its edge. Nasuada sat beside him.

"Why him? There are…_better…_other men to choose from."

For once she was at a loss for words. _He's right. "_I…_love him…_he…_needs me…" _She shrugged helplessly. "I really don't know."

Orrin pressed on. "How can he mean so much to you…_when I mean so little_? What has he done? _Besides betray you, break your hurt, main soldiers, orphan children and spread terror…"_

Nasuada lowered her eyes shyly. "He was my first kiss."

Orrin exploded. " I was your first kiss!!!" _She doesn't remember?!_"The first time I met you…_the day I fell in love…_here in this garden. That's why I took you here tonight…_I was planning to propose…_" His face fell. "You don't remember?"

"Orrin…_how can you expect me to remember…_that was years ago. We were children…"

He bit back tears. "You're still a child. You don't know what you want or what you're doing. You make hasty, stupid decisions based on your bleeding heart!"

"_Are you sure it happened? _I just don't remember…."

She was silenced as he crushed his lips against hers.

"Remember this."


	8. The Cruelty of the King

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini wrote the Inheritance cycle, not me.**

**Author's Note: Orrin isn't a murderer…but that doesn't mean he's not a jerk sometimes. Characters may be a little OOC, but I don't care **** This was ****so**** much fun to write.**_ Italics _**are character thoughts**. _Underlined Italics_ **are…you'll see .**

Nasuada rose early, hoping to visit Murtagh without Orrin knowing. She crept through the castle, stealthy as a spyand managed to make it to the prisons undetected. She stopped at Murtagh's door, and opened it with the key taken from a sleeping guard. She rolled her eyes. _Top-notch security you've got here Orrin. _She stepped onto the ramp and gaped at the strange scene before her. Orrin and Murtagh sat on opposite sides of a small picnic blanket, with a half eaten bowl of fruit between them. Murtagh looked as wary and puzzled as she felt, whereas Orrin looked completely at ease.

"Nasuada!" The king beamed. "I had hoped you would join us."

She narrowed her eyes. She disliked playing games, especially those she did not understand. "What's this about? What are you doing here?"

"Now that the prisoner has had some time to settle in, I figured it was time for a proper _interrogation_…introduction." The cheesy grin never left his face.

"I've learned some fascinating tidbits. You should hear how he talks about you."

Both Nasuada and Murtagh studied the dirt floor. Orrin reveled in their shared discomfort. He was bluffing of course; Murtagh had hardly said a word to him.

_Nasuada doesn't know that._

"Enough chitchat. Now that you're here we can get down to business." He slugged Murtagh roughly on the shoulder. "Murtagh my boy, what can you tell us about Galbatorix?"

"_He's in my head…_Nothing." His voice was monotone. His eyes met Orrin's.

"Come now, you must know something," Orrin cajoled.

Murtagh shook his head, concealing his face behind a veil of dark hair. Orrin's voice took on a menacing tone. "Your life will be easier if you tell me what I want to know."

_I don't want to talk to you. _Murtagh blew the hair out of his eyes.

"He's a king. _Tell them nothing__**.**_ He's a rider. He has a black dragon named Shruikan…_who hates him more then anyone and would gladly help your cause…__You will suffer for that!_He lives in his castle in Uru'baen. He's very powerful. He… _is talking with me right now…_can work magic over great distances."

"Yes, yes, we know all this." Orrin waved his answers away like a swarm of gnats, "tell us more."

Murtagh shrugged, the motion obscuring his face again. "He doesn't…_want me to tell you anything…_tell me much." A bleak smile crossed his face. "Doesn't trust me I guess."

Orrin raked his fingers through his hair. "You are the son of Morzan." He paused dramatically. Murtagh glared under his bangs. _Yeah. I know that. Thanks for the reminder._

"You must know something that ordinary people don't. Tell us what he likes, what he fears and hates. Give us something to work with!"

"He likes…_Eldunarya…__DO NOT REVEAL MY SECRET!"___Murtagh flinched as a dagger of pain pierced his mind. "…power. He loves knowing he has complete control… _of me and Thorn…_ He fears…_Nothing__**.**_ Nothing and he hates…" Murtagh paused and stared at his breakfast pensively.

"…peaches._" _

Orrin punched him in the face. "Tell us the truth you TRAITOR!"

Nasuada leaped off the ramp and grabbed his arm. "Orrin!"

"Peaches." He spat the word. "PEACHES! Peaches he tells us! We can't kill a king with bloody PEACHES!"

Nasuada pushed him down. "And you said we couldn't fight a war with lace." Her words were calm, but her face furious, "he's trying to help us!"

"He's mocking me."

Murtagh sat up again, and used a corner of Orrin's velvet cape to wipe his bloody nose.

"It's the pits that get him," he explained, "He can't stand to pick 'em out. He doesn't like cherries either."

Orrin lunged again. Murtagh nimbly dodged him, and pushed his face into the bowl of fruit. Nasuada didn't know whether to smack them both or applaud. Orrin stood up, his face red with anger and embarrassment. He wiped it on his sleeve and moved towards Murtagh again, who stood ready to defend himself, his fist cocked with a bruised pear. Nasuada stepped between them, her arms outstretched.

"Stop this, both of you." She spoke with quiet fury. She glared at them each in turn. "**Now**."

Murtagh dropped his pear and threw up his hands in surrender. Orrin was stiff as a statue, his fists still clenched. Nasuada stepped up and looked him in the eye. "Sit. **Down**."

King Orrin sat, still seething. "Do you still think he wants to help us?"

"Certainly not you," Murtagh muttered.

Orrin was on his feet in an instant.

"Orrin!"

He sat. A sickening smile stretched across his face. "Who do you serve?"

The word rose like bile in his mouth. "Galbatorix."

Orrin's smile widened. "Who do you support?"

His throat tightened. "The Empire."

Orrin smirked. "Where is your home?"

Murtagh grimaced. _Why is he doing this to me? "_Uru'baen"

Orrin stared at Nasuada. _Are you getting this?_ She would not meet his eye.

"And who…_will you __never__ have a chance with…_Is your father?"

His voice was husky with unshed tears. "Morzan."

"Orrin don't…" Nasuada protested weakly.

He ignored her. His voice was a deadly whisper. "Morzan what?"

Murtagh proudly met his gaze. "Morzan the Betrayer…" He glanced at Nasuada's sorrowful expression. His voice cracked. "First of the Forsworn."

Murtagh struggled to control his tears, not noticing Nasuada was doing the same. The cruel laughter of both kings echoed in his mind.


	9. New Lodgings

**Disclaimer: Paolini owns Murtagh, at least until I sue him for abuse and neglect.**

**Author's Note: Character thoughts in **_italics. _**Please review. You'll like this one.**

"How inspiring," Orrin continued, "to see a father's legacy carried on. Morzan would be proud to see how his son--"

"That's enough Orrin," Nasuada said frostily. "I think you should go."

Orrin puffed up his chest. "This is my castle and my dungeon--"

"But he is my prisoner," Nasuada retorted, her eyes burning holes in his chest. "He was captured in Varden territory by my rider. If you no longer wish to house him I will take him somewhere else."

"Fine! Take him then. _He's obviously the one you want…_ I won't suffer this indignity a moment longer. Get out! Both of you!"

Nasuada did not deign to reply. She and Murtagh left the dungeon, Orrin still ranting behind them. On the outside she was calm and composed, but on the inside she was panicking. _What am I going to do? _Murtagh waited until they were clear of the castle walls before voicing his opinion.

"That was rather unwise. I know you have nowhere else to put me."

Nasuada was too flustered to deny it. "How do you know that?"

He smiled at her. "Your shields are down."

She hastily reinforced her mental walls. He was right. She tended to let her guard down around him. It was completely illogical of course; as an enemy dragon rider Murtagh was the most dangerous person Nasuada knew. _He could kill me right now._ She stared at the rider's benign smile. _He could kill me and run. He could escape so easily now, no one else is awake, and I'm not strong enough to stop him…_

Murtagh noticed her staring. "What?"

Nasuada looked away. "Nothing."

Her mind wandered uneasily as her feet brought her back to her tent.

"Is this the place?"

She jumped, startled. Orrin's unkind reminders had planted a rapidly growing seed of paranoia in her heart.

"This is…_my tent" _Nasuada's mind was racing. _I can't have him live here!_ The sun was rising. The Varden would soon awaken. There was no time to hide him anywhere else.

"Just for now," she told herself firmly, as she ducked through the flap.

Murtagh stepped inside. The only furniture was a canopy bed, a large armoire, a chair, a desk and a mirror. A wooden tub was set in one corner, behind a thick red curtain. He looked around appreciatively, surprised by how spacious the tent was. The desk was piled high with papers, letters, and maps. The rest of the room looked untouched.

"Not a lot to live on," he commented. He spied a vase of lavender on the desk.

"This is your tent isn't it?"

She didn't answer. Murtagh winked

"I can tell. Whoever lives here is always working." He stepped towards her.

"She never sleeps." A step closer.

"She puts others before herself." Another step.

"She's kind." He was only a foot away.

"Brilliant" Nasuada's nose was inches from his shoulder

"Brave" She stood on her toes to reach him.

"Beautiful" he lifted her chin.

"and best of all…" He kissed her.

The world melted away. An electric sizzle passed between them. His lips parted slightly, the tip of his tongue touched hers. The kiss was scorching, sexy, dangerous.

"Rebellious."

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. "You have no idea what to do with me do you?"

Nasuada smiled wryly. "Oh Murtagh," she kissed him gently with rose petal lips.

"I've never known what to do with you."


	10. Power of a Kiss

**Disclaimer: CP owns Eragon, Murtagh, and Nasuada. **

**Author's Note: Character thoughts in**_ italics. _**Please read and review.**

A pleasant rush of heat filled Murtagh's body. He felt strangely weightless, as though he'd just come out of a perpendicular corkscrew with Thorn. He was filled with that same rush as well; equal parts anticipation and terror, all with an undercurrent of joy and recklessness. The weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. In her kiss he had felt her forgiveness. She had redeemed him. He had never felt more free or happy then he did at that moment. In that moment he knew that he loved her. _She's the one._ He wanted to shout his declaration to all the Varden.

"So was I a better than Orrin?" As always, he hid his real emotions behind teasing

Nasuada eyes sparkled mischievously. "I didn't push you into a fountain did I?"

He laughed. "That explains a lot. I was wondering why he punched me in the face."

She shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Does it still hurt?"

He shook his head, and then winced as the movement caused a sharp pain in his neck. "No…_but every other part of me does."_

Nasuada looked at him skeptically. "You're bleeding again."

She guided him onto her bed. Then she carefully removed the bandages from around his neck and head. The cut near his ear was healing, but the one across his neck was bleeding freely. The scabbed over parts were black and crusty. It was probably infected. Nasuada had done her best, but it wasn't enough. Murtagh needed his wounds healed fast, or he would die from their complications. She had never trusted magic or magicians, but now magic was his only hope. She rubbed another poultice onto the cut and covered it with a fresh bandage.

"Stay here. I'm going to find someone to help you."

There was only one magician who could save him now, the same one who had wounded him. Nasuada found him in the training grounds, sparring with Roran.

"Eragon!" she called across the field "I need you!"

Eragon stopped his mock battle. He ran to her with Elven speed.

"What is it? Are we under attack? Has Galbatorix come to rescue his rider?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I just…_ lost my mind completely…_need a favor."

Eragon could sense her hesitation, and he was puzzled by it. _This favor must be something unpleasant._ "May I ask what it is that you need me for?"

Nasuada wrung her hands. He wasn't going to like this. "One of my prisoners is wounded. I need you to heal him."

Understanding and anger lit Eragon's face. "You have other healers."

"None are as powerful as you. You are the only one strong enough to help."

Eragon spoke through gritted teeth. "I do not wish to speak to him ever again. I have renounced our brotherhood and our friendship. I want nothing more to do with him."

Nasuada swallowed her pride. "Please Shadeslayer, Bane of the Ra'zac, I ask you as my rider, my vassal and my friend to help him that you so easily defeated. You have already proven yourself a fearsome opponent; now prove yourself a merciful one as well."

Roran rolled his eyes. Eragon was mollified by the use of his favorite nickname.

"Where is he?" Nasuada hugged him tightly, then glanced uneasily at Roran. She didn't want Murtagh's whereabouts to become common knowledge. "I'll lead you to him."

Nasuada strode quickly back to her tent. Eragon followed sluggishly. There were times he wished he had never bound himself to Nasuada.

They walked inside her tent.

"Hello brother." Murtagh greeted him sadly.

Eragon acted like he hadn't heard. "You're keeping him here?!"

"You came for me." his voice was carefully controlled. "That means a lot to me."

"Only temporarily!" Nasuada exclaimed.

Eragon was fed up with both of them. "After I'm finished here he's coming with me. He should be locked away in Orrin's dungeon, where there are soldiers to guard him."

She scoffed, and threw up her hands in frustration. "Good luck! Orrin is the one who chased him out in the first place."

"I'm sorry for what I've done to you Eragon." His tones were heavy with genuine regret.

"What? Why!"

"She pushed him into a fountain after he kissed her." Murtagh interjected.

Nasuada shot him a sharp glare. Eragon pointedly turned his head away.

"I'm sorry," he repeated softly, "I honestly am. I didn't want to become…_my father…_who I am now. I had no choice."

"I'll heal him." Eragon addressed Nasuada, "but I'm not going to talk to him."

"Eragon please, just listen to me," Murtagh begged, "I know you…_better than anyone…_We're brothers."

Eragon whirled to face him. "You are no brother of mine! I came for her sake, not for you. You mean **nothing**! You **don't** know me, and it doesn't really matter what you wanted, Hrothgar's still DEAD because of you!" He shouted at Murtagh with a rage he hadn't felt since the day Garrow died. He wanted to strike him, to rip him apart with his bare hands.

He leaned over menacingly and hissed in his ear, "Sometimes 'Sorry' just doesn't cut it."

Nasuada timidly tapped his shoulder "Um…_Don't kill him!…_Eragon?"

His eyes were daggers. "Leave us."

**Want more quality MxN fiction? Look no further then Thirsty Hibiscus by Shadowed Breath.**


	11. Magic Word

**Disclaimer: CP owns all of these characters, even the awesome ones he doesn't use.**

**Author's Note: Caught! Ok Squidcats you got me, I've been avoiding mentioning Thorn. I don't know how to represent his thoughts, most authors use italics but I'm already using that. Give me suggestions in the reviews and I'll get him in the next chapter. **_Italics _**is character thoughts. **

Eragon set his dagger eyes on Murtagh, who had been about to speak.

"Whatever you're thinking save it, I don't want to hear your excuses. If you want me to heal you you'll shut your fool mouth."

Murtagh shut his mouth. Eragon set to work healing his worst injuries. The only sound was the murmuring of spells. Soon the silence got to him. Eragon did not like being quiet.

"This would go faster if you aided me." Eragon whined, "They're your injuries, I should not have to use up all my energy, you can do magic now too."

Murtagh stared at Eragon's ring. He scoffed. "As if I'd waste Aren on you."

Eragon prodded him, none too gently, "Are you going to help or what?"

Murtagh only stared at him, as though trying to communicate through telepathy, though Eragon felt no pressure on his mind. Eragon sighed.

"You can talk if you want to."

"It may please you to know I'm in quite a bit of pain now." Murtagh said dryly, "If I could heal my injuries I would have done so days ago."

"What happened to the mad king's all-powerful rider?" Eragon taunted. He shook his hair forward and adopted Murtagh's deep brooding tone

"You can not hope to compete with me, no one can except for Galbatorix." With his hair brushed forward and his eyes cast down the resemblance between them was uncannily similar. "A rabbit could defeat you now!" Murtagh was silent. "a field mouse. A flea!" He punctuated this last jab by tweaking Murtagh's nose. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. Eragon would not goad him into revealing the truth.

"What's the matter with you? Has Galbatorix humbled you so easily?" He grinned impishly. "Have I?"

His lips parted to release a single defiant syllable "No."

The floodgates had been parted. The story poured forth.

"I'm no good without my eldunarya."

Eragon retorted reflexively "You're no good at all anymore." He considered Murtagh's words. "What's an eldunarya?"

"It's a way to trap a dragon's spirit in the human realm, they are the reason Galbatorix is so powerful." Murtagh scrambled to explain before the king realized his treason.

Eragon blinked, his mind realizing the importance of the information. "What? Are you serious? That's how we can beat him? We need to get an Eldunarya! Where do you find them?"

"It's not that simple. The dragon gives it to you, but before they can work…_You must kill the dragon…_The dragons have to die."

Eragon frowned, digesting this news.

"And," Murtagh added a bit smugly, "Eldunarya is the plural. A single one is called an Eldunari."

Eragon was stunned. "Eldunari." He repeated. "This changes everything!"

Murtagh felt a surge of energy, and an itching sensation as his wounds healed, seemingly simultaneously. He shivered involuntarily. "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm using Aren." Eragon answered, "You need to go tell Nasuada and the council what you just told me."

"Alright," Murtagh agreed uncertainly, wary of this sudden change of mood, "On one condition."

Eragon scowled. He hadn't expected Murtagh to bargain. "What is it?"

He looked Eragon in the eye with a flicker of his old confidence "Let me see my dragon."

An unspoken empathy hung between them. He remembered missing Saphira in the Empire, the isolation overriding every emotion, even fear. Eragon knew he should refuse. Nasuada needed to be consulted. He did not have the power to grant this request.

Murtagh begged with his eyes, still too proud to grovel before his brother. Finally the word slipped out.

"Please."

Eragon nodded.


	12. Thorn

Eragon led Murtagh far from the Varden to the edge of a large pit with crossed iron bars across the top. In the pit Thorn roared with indignation which Murtagh mistook for pain.

"Thorn!" He broke free of Eragon's grip and dashed to the center of the pit.

_What have they done to you?_

"_Relax palm-partner, I am fine. I have been fed good meat. My only sadness is that I miss the sky. This prison-pit is small, I long to stretch my wings."_

The dragon stretched his long neck until his head brushed Murtagh's hand. A part of Murtagh that had been tense since his capture relaxed at the sight of his dragon, healthy and whole. _I was worried Thorn_

"_Worry not, all is well. I have been treated far better than you."_

Murtagh reached between the bars to pet Thorn. _I am glad you did not share my pain, but how did you know of my condition?_

A amber rush of affection flowed across their connection. _"Bright-eyes-blue-beauty tells me of you. She visits me here sometimes at night when there are no humans to see. She cannot break these bars, nor will she try, but her words comfort me."_

_Bright-eyes-blue-beauty? Do you mean Saphira? Thorn you mustn't develop attachments. We have to escape soon or face execution._

"_Saphira is her human name. We have our own names. You have developed attachments as well I hear."_

Murtagh did not deny it. _Since when do dragons gossip?_

Thorn let out a choked growling sound that served as dragon laughter.

_What does she call you?_

"_Red-scales-stunted-thoughts-Thorn"_

_I've heard more affectionate monikers._

Thorn's words shifted to a soft pink, the equivalent of a dragon's blush. "_I don't mind"_

_Of course you don't._

"Murtagh!" Eragon had been calling for a while. "We have to go." He sounded almost reluctant.

Murtagh and Thorn parted without protest. He jogged to match Eragon's brisk pace.

"Now what?" Murtagh's question reminded Eragon of an earlier time, when the two had traveled together and Murtagh had asked him for his opinions.

"Now…" Eragon's voice was grave "We meet the council"


	13. Drowsy Diplomats

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns all characters**

**Author's Note: I know it's been a while, but I promise I'll update again tomorrow. It took me a while to find a solution with Murtagh and Thorn, but I've found one and it will be there in the next chapter, which will be posted tomorrow.**

The council meeting was already in session. Eragon could see from the empty trays and bloated waistlines of the ambassadors that the first round of snacks had been brought. The people seated at the table looked full and sleepy. They would want to get this meeting finished as soon as possible, and the simplest solution was the immediate execution of both Murtagh and Thorn. Even Arya looked bored. The Nighthawks stood at attention, but some looked close to collapsing. Only Nasuada and Orrin looked awake enough to understand Eragon's explanation on the Eldunarya, and they were too busy bickering to even notice that the subject of their argument had arrived.

."This is not a personal matter Orrin, killing Murtagh would provoke a direct attack from Galbatorix!"

Orrin snorted; "It's unlikely that crazy old king would leave his castle for the sake of his messenger boy."

"You underestimate him, just because he has allowed the existence of Surda does not mean that he is a weak opponent. Murtagh is so much more than a messenger."

"No craftsman would risk his life for the sake of his tools, no matter how valuable, useful or handsomely made. We have no use for this tool, so it should be destroyed to prevent its use as a weapon"

Nasuada looked him in the eye as she calmly contradicted him "He is not a tool. He is a person with his own mind and-"

"Then he chooses to follow Galbatorix!" Orrin stood and slammed his palm on the table.

"He does not! He is a victim who deserves compassion, not a monster or tool." Nasuada stood as well, her anger visible only in her almond eyes.

Eragon cleared his throat. The Nighhawks snapped to attention, half crowding around Orrin and Nasuada, the other half trapping Murtagh. From his seat Orrin addressed the council.

"Over the past three hours you have heard the positions of both Lady Nasuada and me. There is little else to be said on the matter, so after Eragon says his piece I propose we conduct a vote."

Eragon walked to head of the table and stood behind Nasuada and Orrin. He hesitantly explained the power of the Eldunarya to the inattentive council members, and trailed off with a self-deprecating shrug. _I'm not sure how it works myself yet._ The council members wore faces of skepticism and confusion. Trianna was the first to speak.

"Do you have any proof?" She addressed her questions to Murtagh. "How do we know you're not lying to save your own skin?"

The words _trust me_ rose in his mind, but he knew better than to speak them aloud. Eragon shifted in place. "He spoke in the ancient language."

"I…_don't think I did…"_ He swallowed the sentence before it was spoken. He wouldn't lie to save his own skin, but if someone else was willing to Murtagh wasn't about to stop them.

"Did he now?" Trianna's voice was heavy with skepticism. "I don't suppose you would want to swear that in the ancient language as well?"

Eragon hesitated for a heartbeat, then repeated his statement, thinking of other times Murtagh had spoken in the ancient language to make his vow true. Angela piped up next.

"Do you have an Eldunari now? I'd love to see one! The world is filled with so many mundanities. It's rare I find an unexplored oddity."

"I don't think that's possible," Murtagh said, "To have an eldunari you need a dead dragon."

"I can think of one we could use." An anonymous voice called out.

Murtagh's eyes darkened dangerously. "I don't think so."

The man's careless comment excited the council. Each person murmured how Thorn could be sacrificed to aid Saphira and Eragon, how the eldunari made a man invincible and stronger than any elf. Nasuada rapped on the table for silence.

"I agree with the idea."

Murtagh and Eragon turned to her, aghast. "The idea of dead dragons?" Eragon asked, outraged and incredulous.

"No, Eragon." Nasuada glanced at him, then moved her eyes to Murtagh, who stood tall with his fists clenched. "I won't kill your dragon. I was only suggesting that Thorn relinquish his eldunari to the care of the Varden."

Murtagh was stone. He didn't want the soul of his dragon trapped, nor did he want to give the fanatical rebels any excuse to kill Thorn. _Besides which, I'm not sure if I want the Varden to win. It certainly wouldn't be in my best interests._

"Murtagh? Do you…_support our cause…_agree." Nasuada clearly wanted an answer now. Murtagh shook his head slightly, casting his face in shadow.

"I will consider it. I need to consult Thorn before I give…_away his soul… _you an answer."

Nasuada nodded briskly. "Of course." She surveyed her dozing and drowsy companions. _Nothing else will be accomplished today. _"We will meet tomorrow at noon to discuss Murtagh's sentence. You are all dismissed."

One by one people wandered off to dinner or bed. She waited until it was just her, Eragon, Arya, and Murtagh. "Do you have somewhere secure to keep him?" Murtagh blew out his breath, sick of being treated like a human one moment and like a wild horse the next. Eragon assured her he had made arrangements and Arya pledged her help, and by extension that of the elves. Nasuada smiled. Events were falling into place surprisingly well.


	14. Memories at Midnight

**Disclaimer: Paolini owns the inheiritance cycle, even if he forgets to write it.**

**Author's Note: Here it is, another chapter. Slash shippers grab your glasses, Eragon's angry and Murtagh's sleeping over. Hope you all enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to review. Oh yeah and character thoughts are in **_**italics.**_

Eragon made his way back to his tent, trailed by Arya, Murtagh, and his usual elven guard. He angrily flipped back the tent flap, and Arya and Murtagh crowded inside. Arya glared at him, arms crosses in disapproval. _This is your solution? _Eragon ignored her until she left. Murtagh shifted from foot to foot. He wasn't sure what Eragon was thinking, and didn't intend to speak until he was. Eragon tossed him a thin blanket.

"Sleep on the ground."

Murtagh picked it up off the ground and shook off what dirt he could. Eragon sat on his bed, daring him to complain. Murtagh bowed his head and stretched out on the floor by Eragon's bed. The wadded up blanket served as a pretty good pillow. _It's better than prison._ A pang of loneliness hit Murtagh's heart. He had spent many uncomfortable nights lying like this beside Eragon, both on the hard ground of the forests, or blowing sands of the Hadarac desert. Night was when they had talked to each other, and sparred to release the fear and tension that dogged them during the day. The danger and adventure of their travels had made them fast friends, bound together first by necessity, but later by love and loyalty. He looked up at Eragon and found him looking back. Purposely Murtagh met his eye. Eragon rolled over to face the wall of the tent.

"Eragon." Murtagh whispered. He didn't expect a response, so he was caught off guard when Eragon sat up and answered. "What!" His voice was as clipped and cold as Murtagh's had been during their battles. Neither man knew what to say next. The silence lengthened. Eragon lay down. Murtagh tried again: "Eragon?"

Eragon didn't sit up this time, but he opened his eyes and looked at Murtagh. This time the question was kinder. "What?" He still wasn't sure what to say. _I just wanted him to speak to me._ Eragon grunted and turned around. Murtagh continued.

"Do you remember…_When we met? The first time we sparred? How we laughed when we saw we were so evenly matched? Do you remember how I helped you when you were injured and rescued you from the Raz'ac? Do you remember we were friends?" _Murtagh trailed off, his eyes misted with memories. Eragon turned to face him.

"Yes. I remember…_When we met on the battlefield and crossed swords for the first time in earnest. You laughed when you told me who my father was. I remember you killed my king and stole my sword. I remember we are enemies. _Murtagh winced at the tone of his voice.

"I meant…_the good memories…_before…_I hurt you and betrayed everyone I ever cared about."_

Eragon's voice was cool as any elf's . "I…_try not to_…don't think about those times." The past didn't matter. Only the present conflict and future of Alagasia mattered.

"I do." Murtagh said sadly. "We were friends."

Eragon met his eye, "That's right," he said, "We were."


	15. My Friend

**Disclaimer: Credit is due to Christopher Paolini for writing the series and Johnny Depp for being such a beautiful heartbreaking psychopath. **

**Author's Note: Wow…This one is really dark. Please review. Character thoughts are in **_italics._

Murtagh twisted on the ground in a futile search for comfort. He pounded his makeshift pillow and turned to one side, then the other, but no matter how he tossed and turned he could not escape his thoughts. His conscience bothered him more than the pain in his joints.

_What am I going to do? I won't trade away Thorn's soul, not for anything, even my own life. I would never force my friend to live alone in darkness, trapped for all eternity…but what other choice is there? If I refuse to help the Varden I'll die._

This was the first time Murtagh had considered his mortality. _I'll die. _Now that the thought had entered his head it was reluctant to leave._ I won't exist in this world anymore. The world will not miss me. _He rolled to escape his thoughts. _My body will rot in a grave…if they even bother to bury me. More likely I'll burn. _The thoughts followed.

_I will die. The world will not miss me. Only the worms will attend my funeral. I will burn. The world will not miss me. Children will dance through my ashes. Or perhaps I'll be hacked to pieces and fed to the dogs, or dragged through the streets in a barrel of nails…but they won't let me go that easily. I'll suffer. First I'll be whipped, then branded. They'll blind me first, so I won't know it's coming…_ He shook his head, trying to clear it of such thoughts. _It doesn't matter how it happens. I'll die._

As he rolled Murtagh hit his head on a small rock. He cursed quietly, blaming the ground, the Varden, Eragon, his father, Galbatorix, and even Nasuada. _Why does everything in this world exist only to cause me pain? _Upon closer inspection Murtagh saw that it was not a rock that had injured him, but the sharp corner of a heavy book. He fished it from under the bed and squinted at the title. _Domia Abr Wyrda, the dominance of fate. _

He had heard of the book before, despite the very name being banned from Galbatorix's castle. Tornac had told him of it. His old sword master had borrowed the book once from one of the castle gardeners. It was the book that had inspired him to change his fate and escape with his student, which had ended in his own death. _Domia Abr Wyrda. It's true. _Murtagh thought. _Fate dominates._ He served Galbatorix as faithfully as his father had. It did not matter that he was unwilling. He had tried endlessly to escape his fate, but in the end his efforts had been useless. _I failed._ _I failed and soon I will die._ _The world will not miss me._

Desperately Murtagh lunged for a distraction. He stretched his arm to its full length and succeeded in retrieving the other object from under Eragon's bed. As he was withdrawing he thought he heard a change in Eragon's breathing. He froze, and then resumed slowly pulling the package towards him. It was wrapped in brown paper. He carefully unwrapped it and pulled forth a familiar hand-and_-_a-half sword.

"I will die," He informed the sword calmly, "the world will not miss me."

Eragon listened, his eyes frozen open.

The sword was sturdy and familiar in his hand. The blade was sharp and polished. The sword was cold. _I'm cold too._ _I'm cold now and I'll be even colder tomorrow. _Suddenly a thought struck Murtagh. He didn't have to die tomorrow.

"I'd rather die now," he told the sword "with you."

He stoked it, started at the hilt and moving up the blade. He pierced his palm at the top and watched as the blood ran down.

"You've been my friend for so long. My only friend. You never gave up on me, even when I abused you. I abandoned you. I betrayed you."

The situation was too absurd to cry over. Murtagh laughed; a broken gasping cackle that raised the hair on Eragon's neck.

"I'm so sorry. Will you forgive me?"

"I-" Eragon began, but Murtagh was too far gone to hear him. He raised the point of the sword to his chest.

"Prove you forgive me, my friend…Kill me."

Murtagh looked at Eragon expectantly, his eyes shining with hope. He pressed the hilt into Eragon's hand.

"End me, Eragon. I don't deserve to live."


	16. Friends and Forgiveness

**Disclaimer: CP owns all inheritance characters, but I own a new bed :) It is sooooooo SWIRLY! (I'm redoing my room) (you guys probably don't care.)**

**Author's Note: This one is a lot lighter. It's kind of filler, I'll get back to the trial in the next chapter. Thanks to all you reviewers, you make my day! Character thought are in **_italics_

Eragon gripped the sword numbly, paralyzed by Murtagh's grim request. Words of comfort burned in his throat. _I forgive you. Let me help you. Brother. _His heart was heavy with kind lies, oaths he could swear that would hold no weight in the morning. _I'll save you. You will not die. _Silently, Eragon set the sword aside. Minutes passed as Eragon cleaned the blade, rewrapped it, and put it back under his bed.

"Why do you want to die?"

"I don't," Murtagh answered, "but I'm going to..."

_Tomorrow_

The unspoken word hung heavy in the air between them. The silence suffocated.

"Not tonight. Go to sleep."

"I don't want to…_waste the hours I have left." _He eyed the sword again.

"No," Eragon said firmly.

"I didn't fetch your sword so you could use it to run yourself through."

A hint of a smile lit Murtagh's eyes. Encouraged, Eragon continued.

"I cleaned the blood off it twice now, and I'm not going to do it again. It's MY sword now, and I say you can't use it."

"Your sword?" Murtagh asked innocently. "Whatever happened to Zar'roc?"

Eragon grinned. "An arrogant, earwax-eating ferret-face took it from me on the battlefield."

Murtagh smirked. "I heard he defeated you first."

"Who said it was a he? The hair was so long I couldn't tell what it was!" Murtagh didn't seem to notice the jab. He was looking pensively at his weapon. _This was the sword I held to Eragon's throat…Why would he bother to restore it?_

"Why did you save my sword?" His voice was suddenly serious.

Eragon said nothing. _I couldn't save you._

"You've taken good care of it," Murtagh added, "Do you ever use it?"

Eragon didn't answer. _No…I considered it, but it made me miss you._

Murtagh looked at him carefully. "Why did you really take it?"

Eragon stared back, his expression blank. "You took mine."

He waited, knowing Eragon would continue if he didn't speak.

"I guess…I wanted something to remember you…_the old you…the good you…_ The sword was all that was left. Maybe I was sort of hoping…if I kept your sword…"

He trailed off. _You could come back, and everything would get beter,_

Murtagh seemed to know what he was thinking. "It isn't really my sword…_I can't come back…_It's Tornac's. He gave it to me…_So I could escape, while he stayed behind, unarmed, to slow down the soldiers…_just before he died_._"

For the first time, Eragon considered Murtagh's upbringing. _Tornac was his father, not Morzan. _

" I know what you mean about hoping." He said quietly. "It never works."

All was quiet and Eragon wondered if Murtagh was asleep.

"Murtagh?"

"Yes?" He sounded weary.

Eragon hesitated. "I forgive you."

"Thank you. I'm glad you told me before I-I'm just glad you told me." Murtagh smiled in the darkness. "Eragon?"

"yes?"

"I don't eat earwax."


	17. Thorn's Sacrifice

**Disclaimer: Christopher Paolini owns everyone specifically named**

**Author's Note: I am so so sorry for abandoning this story for so long! School got in the way…love got in the way…life got in the way. You guys don't care. Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry sorry SORRY! New chapter tomorrow I SWEAR.**

When dawn came Eragon led Murtagh back to the pit that housed his dragon. The trial would take place there, so that both Thorn and Saphira would be able to voice their opinions. A messenger had informed Eragon that Murtagh would be given thirteen minutes to confer with his dragon before the trial started. He would have preferred more privacy and more time, but he recognized it as a hopeful sign that his request had been granted at all. Murtagh's heart leapt as he saw his dragon. He swiftly explained the situation and the Varden's proposal.

_Of course I'll never let them take your eldunari, but I don't know what we're going to do._

Thorn lifted his head and stared at Murtagh with one solemn yellow eye.

"_Let them."_

Murtagh shook his head, unwilling to accept his dragon's sacrifice.

"No! They'll kill you Thorn!" _The Varden is just as bad as the Empire, both only want to use us for their own selfish ends. _

"_Do you not trust your blood-brother Eragon? What of the Lady-of-your-heart? There are good souls in the Varden. I do not hesitate to join them."_

_That's not the point! I won't sell your soul for any price, not even my freedom!_

The dragon sighed, a warm exhalation that banished the chill of the morning. _"Calm yourself young one. I would rather live a long life among allies than be forced into the void before our time."_

Murtagh slowly sank to his knees, reaching his hand through the bars to stroke Thorn's snout. _but…you'd be all alone, trapped in a senseless prison for all of eternity…I don't want to leave you._

"_Nor I you Murtagh but this is the way it must be."_

Eragon, who had been standing a respectful distance away, gestured for Murtagh to return. He looked up and saw that everyone was assembled waiting patiently for…_what?_ His unspoken question was answered with a rush of wind, a jet of flame and a powerful roar as Saphira landed beside Eragon.

"_I have arrived," _she told them, "_now you may begin."_

_Quite an entrance _Eragon remarked, _who are you trying to impress?_

Orrin's pronouncement saved her the trouble of answering. "We are all assembled. Let the trial begin."


	18. The Trial Part 1

"Murtagh, rider of Thorn, son of Morzan the betrayer first of the Forsworn" Orrin's voice showed all the scorn and disgust he felt for the boy. An angry murmur ran through the assembled diplomats. Murtagh winced. "_He's accusing you already" _Thorn observed.

"You are hereby accused of treason against the Varden, aiding and abetting the enemy, revealing classified secrets, sabotaging Varden and Surdan operations, unlawfully seizing caravans, murdering soldiers, and unnecessary cruelty in the field of combat." The disgruntled muttering continued during the list of accusations. Murtagh locked down his mind and crafted a neutral expression.

"Is there anything else you'd like to accuse me of?" Murtagh punctuated his sentence with a pointed glance at Nasuada, and a pseudo-respectful "your majesty"

Orrin bared his teeth in a challenging grin. "Oh yes…_You don't know who you're dealing with boy…_I almost forgot. You are also accused for the murder of king Hrothgar."

A roar swept through the crowd as the dwarves howled for his blood. Orrin did nothing to quiet them. "Do you deny these accusations?" A long silence stretched between them. Finally Murtagh shook his head. Orrin continued waiting. "No."

Still he did not speak. "Everything you've said is…_a despicable crime I should die for…_fairly accurate."

Orrin stroked his chin thoughtfully. "fairly?"

Murtagh sighed. "Fine. You're right. It's accurate. I'm a terrible person. Is that what you want to hear?"

"_Careful," _Thorn counseled "_Do not let your anger overtake you. He is waiting for you to lose control."_

"_I KNOW THAT! I'm NOT angry!"_

Orrin spoke calmly. "So you admit to your crimes son of Morzan."

"Yes…and I…_know who my father is…"_

"_Don't let him provoke you!"_

Murtagh looked into the sea of angry faces, searching for the few that were sympathetic. Eragon and Arya stood together, with hands linked, their heads bowed as if in prayer. _"They mourn you already" _Thorn told him.

_At least someone will. _He tried to catch Eragon's eye, but his brother avoided his gaze. For a moment he met Orrin's eye. The king glowered at him and Murtagh shivered at the hatred he saw there.

"and you what?" Each word was enunciated with clipped precision. Orrin was smug now, he knew there was nothing Murtagh could say to redeem himself.

Murtagh moved his gaze to the right of Orrin where Nasuada stood. _I may die today Thorn, but at least I've been forgiven by the few who were foolish enough to love me._

"_As have I" _Murtagh was too lost in his own thoughts to ponder his dragon's response.

"and you WHAT?" This time the question was impatient. The longer Murtagh stood there speechless, the more attention he took from Orrin, and the more likely it was a few members of the Varden would begin to feel sympathy. He needed to keep the boy angry, so he would appear belligerent and defensive. King Orrin draped an arm around Nasuada's waist.

"and I…_hate you…love her…_" Murtagh stepped forward and knelt before the king of Surda and his beloved Nasuada. She stepped forward and Murtagh gently took her hands in his. "Iam so sorry." He pressed his lips to the scar nearest to her wrist. Orrin raised a hand to strike him, but Murtagh stood to face him. The cold defiance in his eyes made Orrin's arm go limp.

"I will not sell my dragon's soul to save myself. Thorn will keep his eldunari. I will not negotiate on this. Thorn was forced to hatch for me, he should not be punished."

Orrin tried to scoff but it came out as a nervous throat clearing sound. "How dare you make demands of me prisoner! Step away from myself and my queen."

Murtagh took a single step back. "I admit to committing the crimes you accused me of. I will take whatever punishment you and the council deem fitting. I know the punishment for killing a monarch of any race is death, and I will accept this if I am found guilty."

The dwarves cheered. Murtagh raised a hand to silence them. "However, as a political prisoner of war I have the right to defend myself."

Orrin pulled a timepiece from his pocket and grudgingly flipped it over. "One hour"


	19. The Trial Part 2

**Character thoughts in **_italics,_** everything belongs to CP **

The crowd stared as Murtagh stood paralyzed before them. "_if you intend to defend yourself, now would be a good time" _Thorn advised. Murtagh nervously cleared his throat.

"I am a good man." He had expected cries of outrage, but the crowd had been all but shocked into silence by his statement. A single bark of derisive laugher came from the rear of the audience. Encouraged by this relatively harmless reaction, he continued.

"I have done the best I could under my circumstances. I have sought to give each soldier I faced an honorable and swift death. I have aided and abetted the enemy only against my will, and I intend to make amends by helping the resistance from now on. All classified information was savagely ripped from my mind by the Twins, who used both mental and physical torture."

Those in the crowd who had been examined by the pair felt an involuntary twinge of sympathy.

"Under orders, I have sabotaged Varden and Surdan operations, but I have successfully ruined even more of the Empire's schemes and have taken every opportunity to do so. I could have captured Eragon the day I defeated him on the Burning Plains. I did not. I could have warned the Twins of the danger posed by Roran Stronghammer. I did not."

_I could have let Eragon kill me…I did not._ Murtagh paused, lost for a moment in his own dark musings.

"_The eldunari?" _Thorn prompted.

"Since my arrival I have given the Varden information regarding the king at every opportunity."

_Peaches_

Orrin grumbled "not particularly useful information."

"I have revealed the secret of the king's longevity and power."

He glanced at the hourglass, the bottom was not even half full.

"I have renounced my vows to the empire and hereby pledge to aid the Varden in any way I can."

After a period of silence Nasuada asked "Is this the end of your defense?"

Murtagh nodded grimly.

"Then the remainder of the hour will serve as a short recess, after which we shall reconvene and-"

"and what of King Hrothgar?" Orrin demanded. "Have you any defense?"

Battle cries from the dwarves drowned out Nasuadas plea for order.

"_He's trapped you," _Thorn observed. "_No defense means you are guilty, but if you try to defend yourself the dwarves will clamor for your blood all the more."_

"Hrothgar died instantly, without pain." Murtagh tried to speak with conviction "It was a necessary sacrifice."

The dwarves erupted in outraged shouting. _"not the best start" _

Orrin listened for a while before silencing the outcry.

"Explain how their beloved king, who you so callously refer to as 'it' was a 'necessary sacrifice."

"I was ordered to kill the leader of the Varden," he began. "At the time the empire had no knowledge of who had replaced Ajihad, so the king was unable to give me more specific orders."

Orrin interrupted "and did it not cross your mind to disobey?"

Murtagh continued "The orders were given in the Ancient Language. Galbatorix used my true name whenever he commanded me. You don't know what it's like…_to feel your mind slip out of your control—_what it's like to be powerless that way. The magic forces you to obey whatever has been said. It's like thirst, weakening your body and mind until you complete the task. "

"So you murdered Hrothgar to quench this bloodthirst?"

"So you see," Murtagh continued as though he had not heard "I needed to eliminate someone. When I first saw the battle my eye was drawn to Nasuada. I saw her rallying her forces and recognized that she was Ajihad's successor, but I just couldn't_ …bring myself to harm her…bear to live without her…_I just…couldn't. I chose another who was also seen as a leader."

"You chose Hrothgar."

"If there had been another monarch on the field I would have chosen differently."

"You sacrificed Hrothgar so Nasuada could live." Orrin's tone was impossible to read. "Why?"

"She is irreplaceable. Who else could lead a people with such fortitude and grace? She is a symbol of hope, a beacon of light to all who seek to escape the tyranny of the emp-"

"Your hour is up," Orrin interrupted. "You will be restrained in the pit with your dragon until a verdict has been reached."

**Authors note: Like Murtagh I am SO sorry this took so long, many thanks to Restrained Freedom for kicking me in the butt and my loyal reviewers who will review this even though I have left you for so long. *grovels* I fully intend to finish this before the final book comes out. Also go check out Restrained Freedom's stories, she's awesome and writes *gasp* GOOD OCs!**


	20. Unexpected Visitors

"What's taking so long Thorn?" Murtagh moodily kicked the side of the pit where he was restrained with his dragon. "Are they going to leave us in this pit to rot or are they going to MAKE A DECISION!" His last words were shouted in the hopes that someone would hear and end this torment one way or another.

"_Peace youngling. Are you so eager to hasten our demise?" _Thorn lay still, his eyes shifting back and forth, tracing the path that Murtagh had been pacing for who knew how long.

"So you believe we will be executed…_No more than I deserve, but I wish there was some way to save you…"_

"_Enough! There is no use poisoning your final memories with such black thoughts."_

Murtagh sank to the ground with a heavy sigh. "So you've given up? You promised you wouldn't. We both swore no matter what happened we would keep fighting!"

"_I swore that oath under another name. My anger has cooled. We are far from our enemies here. What is left to fight?"_

"Injustice!" Murtagh rose and walked to his dragon who wrapped his tail around him in a familiar embrace. "I know I've wronged many. Boys lie cold in their graves because of me. But saving her...was…"

"_necessary?" _

"Right! It was right Thorn. For once in my life I protected someone…_Tornac…Mother…_ Now I'm going to be executed because the knurlan can hold a grudge forever!"

Thorn curled his tail tighter, preventing Murtagh from assaulting the wall.

"_I know little of justice, but it seems __one good deed is not enough to save a man from a lifetime of wickedness."_

"_Though it seems enough to condemn him…Hello Murtagh, I did not expect to find you here." _ It took Murtagh a moment to place the voice. Thorn took no time at all.

"_Blue beauty! You came!"_

Thorn suddenly stood, straightened and stretched his neck to the top of the pit. Both dragons hummed with satisfaction.

"_Of course I did. The play-king is a fool. He has no more sense than the sheep I devour. I'd like to eat him alive!"_

Saphira growled quietly and smoke curled from her nostrils.

Murtagh smiled, grateful for another unlikely ally.

"Thank you Saphira, but I doubt that would help our situation."

"_It would certainly make me feel better." _

Despite himself, Murtagh let out a bark of harsh laughter that he cut short at the sound of a cool female voice.

"What could you possibly find so amusing?"

While he was preoccupied, Arya had entered the pit via a hidden tunnel that closed behind her. She continued speaking before Murtagh could respond. "Your fate has been decided."

She opened the tunnel with a word in the ancient language then turned to Murtagh.

"Follow."


	21. The revised Verdict

**Character thoughts in italics, Christopher Paolini owns everything**

The walk through the tunnel was long and uncomfortably silent. Murtagh desperately wished Thorn had been allowed to come with him to hear the verdict.

"_I'm here Murtagh. I always am."_

The voice of his dragon comforted him a little bit. The ground rose steeply and Murtagh shielded his eyes against the light peeking through the crack at the top of the tunnel. Arya offered him a piece of cloth to use as a blindfold.

"I'll get used to it." Murtagh assured her. He didn't want to be any more helpless than he already was. But Arya roughly placed the cloth into his hand.

"We'll be walking past some commanders tents. It's for protection."

"I'd prefer to face whatever is coming if it's all the same to you"

Arya offered a strange smile. "A brave sentiment, but this is required by order of King Orrin." She emphasized these last two words. Murtagh was unsure whether she resented the King or if she was reminding him of his place. He reluctantly tied on the blindfold. Arya gripped his wrist and forcefully tugged him along.

"_Perhaps if I can't see the stones thrown they will not hurt me"_ Murtagh thought wryly. Although his vision was now blocked Murtagh could still hear the angry words, some whispers, some shouts but all directed at him.

"Traitor. Devil. Scum."

Some insults hurt worse than others.

"Just like his father... To think Eragon befriended him! Blood always tells."

He knew the gazes would be just as hateful.

"_Ignore them." _Thorn counseled_ "They do not know the agony we endured." _

Finally they reached Nasuada's tent. Murtagh could tell it was hers by the red glow the light took on. He reached up to remove the blindfold but Arya stayed his hand.

"Not yet."

"Welcome Murtagh, son of Morzan." He could just imagine Orrin's sickening grin. "You may now remove the blindfold Arya."

She did so. Murtagh almost wanted to snatch it back. He didn't like to give Orrin the satisfaction of following his orders. Instead he looked around the room searching for faces he recognized. There were few, and far too many of them were dwarves. Nasuada's lips were pursed, but whether with fear or distaste he couldn't tell. Eragon's face revealed nothing, but the way his hands were clenched together revealed he would rather have been holding a knife.

"We have reached a decision" Orrin told him. He paused, waiting for Murtagh to ask just what that decision was. Although his blood was like ice in his veins Murtagh merely met his eye and nodded calmly.

"After much careful deliberation between myself, and those gathered here before you." He gestured and each person named themselves and their position. Murtagh could make out only two words, repeated over and over. Dwarf clan. Dwarf clan. Dwarf clan.

"We have decided that you may live." Murtagh let out the breath he was barely aware he had been holding. "conditionally of course." He gestured for a woman to rise. She had the elegance of any of the women of Galbatorix's court, but the same malice of the empire's nobles gleamed in her eyes.

"I am Trianna, leader of Du Vrangr Gata. You will be collaborating with myself and my magicians. You will teach us everything you know. You will tell me anything I ask. You are under my command and will follow my orders without question." The or else was implied by her wicked smile.

This was not ideal, but not unbearable. There was no way this woman could be as cruel as his former master. Orrin resumed speaking.

"At his request, you will continue to share Eragon's lodgings. We trust that your concern for your dragon will keep you from misbehaving."

Not trusting himself to speak Murtagh nodded slowly.

"Aside from Eragon you will be kept apart from anyone you could influence. The dwarves are working to create an amulet that will suppress your magic. You will be permitted to remove it only when training with Du Vrangr Gata." Orrin paused dramatically. "There is one more small detail. You will have to submit to having your memories checked regularly."

"Why?" Murtagh asked angrily.

"How else are we to be sure you won't betray us?"

"You have my word."

King Orrin guffawed. "Your word? And what is your word worth? You gave your word to fight for the Varden, and look how well that turned out. Oh no. You had your chance to prove yourself and you wasted it. You will have your brain picked whenever I see fit."

"I'll swear it in the ancient language."

"No I don't think so. A snake like you will always find a way to slither free. You betrayed us once, I'm not giving you the chance to do it again. You'd find some loophole and break that oath just as you've broken every oath you've ever taken. You betray people just like your father did. It's part of your nature." Orrin seemed to be finished speaking.

"Am I dismissed?" Murtagh hissed through gritted teeth.

"Not quite yet. Your mind will be examined as soon as Angela arrives. But yes, this meeting is over. Everyone else may leave"

Most members of the council filed out quietly. A few familiar faces lingered behind.

"Will someone go get her?" Orrin asked irritably. Arya darted off to find the herbalist.

**Authors Note: Alright you guys convinced me. I was unnecessarily cruel. Murtagh's sentence has been altered. This story has been haunting me for years now and I am going to freaking finish it! I'm in college now and have more free time than I know what to do with, so expect updates more regularly now. It is my goal to finish this story before the semester ends. I don't know if anyone is still reading, it's been so long I don't blame you if you've forgotten it entirely, but if you've kept up with the story so far I hope you'll reread it and give me another chance. **


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